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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961287">Sunshine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/pseuds/Stormcalled'>Stormcalled (Raidho)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beach fic, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Moonfire Faire, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Romance, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), gross schmoopy stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:00:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/pseuds/Stormcalled</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Major 5.3 spoilers.</p><p> </p><p>The Warrior of Light attends the Moonfire Faire... and actually enjoys it for once.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1435858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had a hard stop on writing anything past the end of Perfect but I'm so over the moon about the ending of 5.3 that hell itself cannot stop me.  There are major spoilers in here both for 5.3 and for Perfect.  If you want to maintain suspense for the slow burn, stop right here!  This fic spoils a lot!</p><p>You can yell at me on twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/AStormcalled">@AStormcalled</a> or tumblr <a href="https://dellebecque.tumblr.com">@Dellebecque</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, <em>naturally</em> after Thancred arrived in an unclothed state I made a point of--” G’raha’s ear twitched as his linkpearl went off, and he spared a, “pardon me, just a moment,” to Krile. Nearly everyone in the <em>world </em>who had his frequency was in the building, so he took a gamble with his greeting as he pressed a finger to the linkpearl to answer and said, softly, “Hello, love.”</p><p>Krile grinned and crossed her arms, leaning back on her heels as she watched him. On the other end of the connection he heard a quiet huff of breath, a little pleasantly surprised sound--it was different from before, when they’d been together on the First, but he could imagine Aden’s ears perking and his tail curling up all the same. <em>You came back.</em> He knew exactly what that meant. G’raha couldn’t help but smile himself, tail swishing behind him, reveling in that startled gratitude just to hear him answer a <em>linkpearl</em>. “Hey,” Aden finally answered, voice low and a little breathy, and the tip of G’raha’s tail curled. “Uh. The Adventurer Guild asked me to handle something out at Costa and I thought you might be interested.”</p><p>“<em>Absolutely.</em> I’ve never been to have attuned to the aetheryte there, but I <em>have</em> been to Limsa Lominsa, so it shouldn’t be much trouble. I mean, that is, if you think I’ll be of--”</p><p>“<em>Raha.</em>” G’raha exhaled softly in relief as Aden cut him off in that firm, gentle tone of voice so familiar from their younger days. To anyone else, <em>from</em> anyone else it might be rude, but G’raha heard the unspoken : <em>you are more than enough</em>. “I’m in Limsa now. I’ll wait for you and we’ll take the ferry together.”</p><p>“I shan’t be long.” Both of them lingered, a little silence between them--a soft unwillingness to part, to be the first to say farewell. He imagined Aden on the other end, looking down and smiling, the tip of his tail still curled, the hand not on his linkpearl perhaps sheepishly tucked into a pocket.</p><p>“Love you,” Aden murmured, voice warm and rich as late afternoon sunlight on old, polished wood. “See you soon.”</p><p>The connection broke, and G’raha looked back to find Krile practically <em>beaming</em> at him. “What?” He couldn’t manage an indignant tone, still smiling and tail getting the better of him.</p><p>“Nothing important,” she said, but her smile remained. “Where are you headed?”</p><p>“Costa del Sol,” he answered, and relayed Aden’s request.</p><p>Krile’s eyes crinkled up at the edges even further, and she raised a hand to her chin. “Do you even own anything appropriate to wear to such a place? I should think not, after all this time….”</p><p>“Ah--’tis not that sort of--it’s <em>business</em>,” he finally settled on.</p><p>Krile merely laughed and waved him on. “Go on about your business, then. You can finish telling me the story another time.”</p><p>G’raha exhaled softly, hesitating just a moment. He finally <em>had</em> time, and the leisure to make such promises, and what a relief that was.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The ferry to Costa del Sol was <em>full</em>, and G’raha supposed he should expect that in the middle of summer. The sun beat down blistering hot through the fresh breeze, and the sea glittered, and he sat pressed close to Aden by the crush of other riders, tails twined together behind them. When the ferry turned them out G’raha nearly lost a step in the soft sand, counterbalancing hard with his tail. He’d known Costa del Sol was a resort, a town dedicated almost solely to leisure, but between the balloons and the throngs of scantily-clad people and the music it seemed clear--”Is this some sort of--festival?”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>, that’s right, you’ve never been, have you?” Aden’s tail brushed his as they made their way up the beach. His jaw tensed, brief as if he’d thought of something then quickly dismissed it. “Adventurer Guild runs it, and something goes wrong every year, seems like. Since I’m just about the only person they can find who isn’t <em>partying</em>, I’m usually the one who fixes it.”</p><p>He could imagine it now, the unflappably stoic Warrior of Light showing up on the beach in full drachenmaille and pointedly ignoring the festivities. At least Aden had opted for his armored jacket instead, the pale swathes of leather almost blinding white in the sun. “I have heard of the festival,” G’raha said. “I was rather pre-occupied before, though. It never crossed my mind to attend.”</p><p>Aden made a soft little <em>hn</em> sound. “They had an obstacle course last year--you’d’ve liked it. If you want to have a look around while I go find out what’s wrong, I’ll come find you.”</p><p>They paused in the scant shade of a palm, G’raha’s tail coiling behind him--but he searched Aden’s face and knew this wasn’t a dismissal, it was <em>permission</em>. He wanted to remain by Aden’s side, but this was an opportunity to recapture some small piece of what he’d spent a lifetime denying himself. “I believe I shall,” he answered. Aden reached up to squeeze his shoulder, chin tilting up and a smile curling his lips--G’raha couldn’t help but return it.</p><p>While Aden wandered off to find his contact, G’raha made his way over to the bar that seemed to be the center of attention. He squeezed in between a rather large xaela man and a pale haired seeker woman in a silver bikini, and waited for a bartender to turn his way.</p><p>"...<em>always</em> shows up. It's a good place to watch him in action and cut your teeth on reporting; this way when you just get stories and eye witness accounts you'll have an idea what you're dealing with."</p><p>"Got it." G'raha's ears perked and swiveled to the right. He leaned in just enough to look down the bar and saw a pair of plainsfolk, an older man leaning on the bar while a younger woman scribbled notes furiously.</p><p>"First thing's first, forget <em>everything </em>you've read about the Warrior of Light in those tawdry one gil romance novels. He's a right <em>arsehole</em> if you get anything out of him at all, a perpetual loner, with a stick the size of his damn spear up his backside. He's most willing to talk right after a fight, the bloodier the better." The man leaned over to watch his young companion writing furiously, waiting until she caught up. "You know who Tataru Taru is?" The woman nodded as she wrote. "If you see her <em>do not</em> approach the Warrior. Don't even try. She's like one of those bloody Doman ninjas, stop you in your tracks if you have a quill in hand and so much as look <em>sideways </em>at the Warrior." The man straightened and turned around on his stool, as if saying the Scions' secretary's name might summon her. He seemed satisfied and leaned on the bar with both arms this time.</p><p>"We'll only have a short window of time," he continued. "He'll be in and out as fast as possible, never stays for the faire. Thankfully he's always alo--" The man looked up and made eye contact for just an instant before his gaze skipped up--just as a familiar hand settled on G’raha's shoulder.</p><p>"Hey," Aden said, so close to one ear G’raha felt the warmth of his breath. "You ready?"</p><p>G'raha smirked at the reporter as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. He didn’t linger, though, turning to face Aden instead, found him so close he was practically pinned against the bar. A hand on his hip and half a step forward and the position would be… <em>incredibly </em>intimate. As it was, it was just <em>necessary </em>in the crowd. Regardless, he stumbled on his response of, <em>I am at your disposal,</em> and it came out, “I am yours.”</p><p>Aden’s ears perked forward, and a sly little grin curled his lips. “I’d hope so, by now.” G’raha felt his face flush as they picked their way out of the crowd. “I’m glad I called you,” Aden said as they broke out into open air. Somehow the sun felt <em>less</em> heated than the crush of people had been once Aden arrived. “I’m not sure I’m up to this.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Aden’s gait slowed, letting G’raha get shoulder-to-shoulder with him as he explained the task set before him--and the rather <em>unique</em> control system for the bombard. He looked askance, a little tension in his jaw. “I told them I can’t do it.”</p><p>“<em>Why?</em>” spilled out over G’raha’s lips, even though he already knew the answer.</p><p>A hundred ways to refute it played through his head as Aden sighed and then spoke. “I can’t <em>dance</em>. I’m just going to make an ass of myself, except this time there’ll be consequences.” He looked everywhere <em>but</em> G’raha, mismatched eyes, one rich green and one honeyed amber, seeking any distraction. “You know how it is.”</p><p>G’raha stopped, crossing his arms, tail swishing behind him. Aden stopped just a second later, turning around to face him. For a fleeting moment he made eye contact, then fixed his gaze somewhere to one side of G’raha’s face. “You danced well enough in the celebration of the defeat of the sin eaters.”</p><p>“Alisaie <em>made</em> me.”</p><p>“And our <em>wedding</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Well</em>,” Aden said, and gestured vaguely with one hand.</p><p>It seemed no follow-up was forthcoming, so G’raha took a step closer and reached out, running his fingers down the short, neat line of beard along Aden’s jaw to tilt his chin up. “Love, look at me, please.” Aden’s gaze shifted to meet his immediately, and G’raha just <em>watched</em> for a moment--the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes fought not to look away, the almost imperceptible slouch in his shoulders. “How is it any different from fighting?”</p><p>Aden’s mouth opened slightly, presumably to answer, then closed and his eyes narrowed very slightly. “The rhythm’s always wrong,” he answered. “The weight of the spear and meeting resistance form a counterpoint. It <em>feels</em> right. It matches up with the song.” He settled his hands on his hips and leaned his head back with a sharp inhale, ears shifting backwards. “And I don’t give a damn if people watch me fight. I'm good at that. Here, everyone who's not chasing a tail is watching to see what I'll do."</p><p>Finally they cut to the heart of the matter. Aden wasn’t wrong--G'raha had noticed many stares and whispers, and the two reporters waiting for Aden’s arrival proved not <em>merely </em>those present were eager to know his business. Indeed, this very fact had proved quite fortunate in G'raha's research, and he still possessed a small collection of entirely fictitious stories that further proved Aden right. The word the reporter had been about to say, <em>alone</em>, rung in his head, and G'raha's ears perked with a sudden thought. He ran his fingers down the line of Aden’s jaw again, leaning in close as he caught his chin in the palm of his hand. "What if I could guarantee only <em>one </em>person will be watching you?"</p><p>Aden’s eyes widened, his ears flicking back and forth once and his tail curling up high behind him, and G'raha pulled him into a kiss. It was an impulsive decision, and perhaps ill considered, but he could <em>guarantee</em> all eyes would be on him instead. Aden returned the kiss enthusiastically, leaning into him slightly, and G’raha pushed for more, letting go of Aden’s chin and wrapping his arms around him. He growled softly, possessively, and Aden responded with a little snatch of a purr. They’d agreed to make no secret of their relationship here, yet this was <em>exceptionally</em> forward. Aden <em>melted</em> into him a little, and while he wasn’t as strong in this body as he had been in the one augmented by the Tower he still took Aden’s weight into a shallow dip. They weren’t so far from the crowd of faire-goers, but the world narrowed down to just this: the man in his arms and the warm lips under his. Perhaps some dim and distant part of him heard the murmur in the crowd, or the soft click of someone using a tomestone to capture an image--it was half the point, after all. He’d give them someone <em>else</em> to talk about.</p><p>Finally they parted with a shared slow blink, and with Aden still in his arms G’raha murmured, “Will you dance with me?”</p><p>Aden stared up at him for a moment, still held low, the slits of his pupils a little wider than the bright sun dictated, lips parted. “Yes,” he breathed.</p><p>They drew apart, straightening, but the back of their hands brushed, and Aden twined their fingers together. Aden had done the same for him, earlier, during their call, and a warmth welled up in him at the thought that he had returned the favor.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>At this point G’raha’s standard for <em>bizarre</em> was quite skewed, and using dance to direct a bombard to attack a giant landwalking shark barely registered--but it certainly seemed <em>ridiculous</em>. Based on the stories that’d survived of Aden’s adventures, he’d expected dire circumstances and unbelievable stakes--the sort of adventures he’d been sending Aden on. They slowly made their way towards Gegeruju’s bungalow, and as they walked G’raha looked out across the ocean, back towards the island with all of its fairegoers. He finally laughed, full-throated and immeasurably delighted. “It beggars belief--you said something like this happens every year?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He gestured with one hand as they walked, straight out in front of himself, palm up and lowering his hand. “One year it involved these folks in color coded armor posing like they belonged in one of those Hingan comics--uh, have you…?” A mismatched gaze darted his direction.</p><p>G’raha nodded, still laughing under his breath. “Only rarely; they weren’t a common import to Sharlayan. I have one of <em>you</em>, though, I’m shocked you haven’t seen it by now.”</p><p>Aden gave an indignant scoff, curling his lip slightly. “It’s one of the raunchy ones, isn’t it?”</p><p>“There’s certainly a risque scene, yes, but less so than <em>most</em> of the pieces I collected from that region. Now that I think on it, it is rather curious that most of the fiction I obtained from that region seems to lean into the lewd….”</p><p>While G’raha trailed off Aden shook his head, ears flicking to the sides. “Alisaie collects them, ever since we passed through Kugane, so I know more than I care to.”</p><p>They paused briefly to let a crab scuttle past towards the receding tide, and even as he followed it with his eyes G’raha’s mind churned on the fight. “Have you had any other particularly ridiculous adventures? Aside from here.”</p><p>Aden made a quiet, exasperated noise. “Moogles.”</p><p>G’raha responded with a sharp laugh. “They were still terrified of you, you know, two hundred years later--I may have tricked them into thinking I was your ghost to get what I needed from them.”</p><p>“<em>Good</em>.” Aden grinned wolfishly, bumped G’raha’s shoulder with his. “Then there’s Hildibrand. Hells, I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up somewhere yet.” His ears twitched as if seeking signs of the aforementioned man. “He’s an absolute menace. I avoid him as much as I can, but his assistant keeps getting my linkpearl frequency. I’ve changed it almost twice a year just because of them.” The story Aden told then sounded truly <em>mad</em> in every way, and had G’raha in stitches by the time they neared Gegeruju’s bungalow. “That’s not even <em>half</em> of it,” he said, making a sharp but tightly contained gesture with one hand.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The day wore on into late afternoon before everything was said and done--the performance, their reward disbursed (for all his flaws Gegeruju paid them like he knew what the Warrior of Light’s time was worth), and one last piece of business for which G’raha briefly ducked away to speak with their contact alone. He returned with their performance garb bundled under one arm only to find Aden stopped at the boat launch, surrounded by the rest of the Scions all attired for the faire. He jogged to catch up, slowing only when he reached earshot.</p><p>"--told me you and G’raha were already here--oh, hello, G’raha!" Tataru paused just long enough to give him a cheery wave. "And I thought, you know, that's just the thing to welcome everyone back home. We've all been working so hard or worried half to death, what could be better than a relaxing afternoon at the beach? We so rarely take the time to just enjoy one another’s company." She looked both of them up and down, her beaming smile shifting into a little frown and furrowed brow. "You’re not dressed like you're here for the faire… and you weren't about to leave, were you?"</p><p>Aden’s gaze quickly darted from Tataru across each of the others, and his ears fell back slightly. “We just came out here to help out,” he answered, “not for the faire.”</p><p>“<em>However</em>,” G’raha chimed in, stepping smoothly up next to Aden and bumping his shoulder gently with his, “I <em>did</em> manage to acquire our attire from the performance, and this <em>is</em> my first time visiting Costa del Sol.”</p><p>He watched the moment of indecision in the subtle shift of Aden’s ears, knew the little huff that escaped him for conflict. He was unused to such things before their relationship began on the First, and returning <em>home together</em> put his newfound freedom in conflict with his intense restraint. Finally he nodded, the start of a smile warming his features. “We’ll stay.”</p><p>“Oh, splendid!” Tataru gestured excitedly, absolutely glowing. “I’ll arrange for somewhere to stow your gear with all the other little things I need to handle--why don’t you two go stake out a good patch of beach in the meantime? Oh,” she said, turning around and gesturing at Alisaie with both arms in a motion that seemed to say <em>hand it over.</em></p><p>Alisaie reached into a satchel she carried and pulled out a very wide brimmed straw hat that had been carefully folded in half, and shook it back into shape as she handed it over. “This arrived just after G’raha left.” She grinned mischievously as she added, “From your mother.”</p><p>The others filtered out onto the beach after Tataru, leaving Aden and G’raha standing there for a moment. “Is she… still sending you clothes, after all this time?” Aden nodded, examining the hat. “I should very much like to meet your mothers.”</p><p>“We’ll make some time, soon,” Aden said, taking the hat in one hand and sliding the other into G’raha’s. “They’re going to love you.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tataru arranged for beach blankets and umbrellas and every little comfort each of the Scions could’ve wanted. On his way back from the changing room G’raha stopped first with a flower vendor wandering the beach with a crate full of blooms, then by the bar once more. This time a bartender noticed him almost immediately, and he turned to look back towards the changing rooms while waiting on his order. Aden stepped out in the turquoise wrap he'd grudgingly worn for the performance, the bright color a brilliant contrast against his sun-dark skin, and g’raha began scheming on how he might convince Aden to wear it more often. It was a lovely contrast, too, to G’raha’s own rich red wrap.</p><p>Almost immediately the older plainsfolk reporter G’raha had overheard earlier rushed up to Aden, and Aden’s ears flicked, tail lashing behind him as the man peppered him with questions. He snarled, quite obviously saying something rather rude, and then suddenly Tataru was there, just as the reporter had claimed she would be, somehow exuding a commanding and professional air in her ruffled swimsuit.</p><p>“Excuse me.” G’raha turned to look the other way, and found the younger reporter at his side. “I’m with the Harbor Beacon--might I have a few words from you on the events at the faire this year?”</p><p>G’raha glanced from her to the bartender, then back to Aden, who had not yet managed to extricate himself from the situation--the reporter over there was still stubbornly addressing him. Finally he looked back to the woman on a high stool next to him, notebook open and chewed up stub of a pencil at the ready. “I believe I have a moment to spare,” he answered.</p><p>“Great! Thank you so much. I couldn’t help but notice your tattoos--you’re a Sharlayan Archon, are you not?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said, one ear flicking a little as he did so--that seemed an <em>exceptionally </em>odd question to start with.</p><p>“What subject did you earn that station in?”</p><p>“Allagan history,” G’raha answered, a little more slowly. “I thought you wanted to talk about the faire?”</p><p>“We’re getting to that,” she said, scribbling away in some shorthand he couldn’t quite decipher. “I just need to make sure I get the details right for attribution and to give a real human interest to the story. Are you a member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn?”</p><p>That explanation seemed reasonable enough, so he continued. “Yes, but only of late. I’m a very junior member.”</p><p>“I see, I see.” She continued scribbling, not looking up again even as she asked, “And your name?”</p><p>“G’raha.”</p><p>“Is that Tia or Nuhn?”</p><p>“Dellebecque.”</p><p>The tip of her pencil snapped and she stared at it for a moment as if she couldn’t quite process the event. Then she finally looked up at him, eyes wide, then quickly down at the ring on his hand, then back up, and finally past him. “Shite,” escaped her on a breath, very, very quietly.</p><p>“Excuse me!” He looked down to see Tataru drawing up to his side. “All questions for the Scions should be directed through me. I’ll handle this, G’raha--and your tab, don’t worry.” He looked from her back to the bar, and the bartender who had evidently been placing his order down on the counter and frozen mid-motion, staring at him. The bartender blinked owlishly once, twice, and then seemed to remember himself just in time for G’raha to take everything and flee.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“She was probably using it as a pretense to find out who you were, after all that,” Aden gestured vaguely off in the direction of <em>everywhere else on the island</em>--meaning their kiss and the dozen other little public displays of affection. “Who did she say she was with again?”</p><p>“The Harbor Beacon.” G’raha looked up from his work weaving the flowers into the hat just in time to catch Aden scowling.</p><p>“They’re not one of the major papers. Got a name that <em>sounds</em> like the Harbor Herald so people will confuse them. It’s a gossip rag, though. Kind of place that runs stories about people turning their carbuncles into weirder things, or claiming they’ve found evidence this or that’s actually from the void.” He drew his knees up and draped both arms over them, holding the drink G’raha had brought him in one hand. It showed off a scandalous amount of leg, which G’raha couldn’t help but peek at. “You’d be hard pressed to pick a worse place to break that we’re a couple, let alone <em>bonded</em>, apparently in secret as far as they’ll be able to tell.”</p><p>“My apologies.” He looked back down at his work, ears drooping and tail slapping sheepishly at the beach blanket. “I didn’t realize. Should you wish to refute them, I’ll--”</p><p>“Hey.” Aden dropped one leg, still bent, to the side to lean over and lay a hand on G’raha’s knee. “I don’t give a damn who knows, or how they find out. In fact, I want <em>everybody</em> to know. I’ll shout it from the roof of the bloody cathedral in Ishgard.” That pulled a quiet laugh from G’raha in spite of his mood, and he looked up to find a bright smile on Aden’s face, mismatched eyes particularly lovely in the afternoon sun. “Just don’t be surprised if they find some barmy bugger to claim there’s a love child involved. <em>Somehow</em>.”</p><p>G’raha reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes opposite the side he’d pinned up, the uneasiness in his chest settling. “Well, <em>technically</em> we do have a granddaughter.”</p><p>“She looks like she ate a whole lemon every time I call her that.”</p><p>G’raha chuckled, imagining the expression--he’d certainly seen it before many times as Lyna grew under his care. He glanced out across the beach at the water, brilliant blue and lovely, worrying at the hat in his lap with his fingers. “I wish she could be here.”</p><p>“Kholusia’ll be like this, one day.” Aden squeezed his knee gently. “She’ll have her own Costa del Sol.”</p><p>“She will,” he said, as pride overwhelmed sorrow at the thought he might never see Lyna again, that he could not share the beauty of the Source with her--replaced instead with the knowledge that she was on the right path to build a better world. He turned back, brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, then looked down at the hat. “‘Tis done, I believe.” He proudly offered it to Aden, who instead ducked his head and let G’raha place it.</p><p>The hat was <em>huge</em>, covering his ears and almost all of his short red-streaked-gold hair, the brim stretching well past his shoulders--it was like a private little sun parasol. But that was the <em>point</em>. The rustic style suited him, and the flowers, too--G’raha had come to associate him with flowers after nearly a year of a fresh, fae-preserved bouquet appearing weekly on his desk in a humble little ribbon-wrapped jar, even in the dead of Lakeland’s first winter in a hundred years. The habit hadn’t failed so far, as he’d awoken in the Rising Stones to flowers in an equally humble glass at his bedside, even if the blooms weren’t quite so keenly preserved. He wondered how foolish it would be to press them before they faded, and where he’d keep all the books of flowers.</p><p>“There’s one left,” Aden pointed out, before he put his drink down and snatched the remaining flower out of G’raha’s lap. He pinched off some of the long stem, then leaned forward and very carefully tucked it in behind one set of pins in G’raha’s hair. “There.” He lingered close, dropping his hand just enough to brush his thumb across G’raha’s cheek. “We match.”</p><p>“I get a tooth ache just <em>walking up</em> to you two.” They both looked up to find Alisaie looming over them, arms crossed and grinning, hip cocked. She wore a bathing suit that looked as if it were meant to be particularly streamlined, offering as little resistance as possible in water. “If you’re quite done making doe eyes at one another, I’ve just challenged Thancred to a race, but he’ll only agree to go if one of you will as well.”</p><p>Aden had to tilt his head back a little further to see her on account of the hat’s very large brim. “What kind of race?”</p><p>“Out to that rock and back,” she said, pointing at a large stone in deeper water. “Do you think you’re up for it?”</p><p>“All three of us’ll have an unfair advantage over G’raha,” Aden said. “On account of the Kojin blessing, and Thancred’s… <em>talent</em>.” The way Aden said that word implied something <em>lewd</em>, and G’raha’s ears perked with the curiosity of gossip.</p><p>“Above water only, then,” G’raha said, tail lashing excitedly behind him. “That should even the playing field.”</p><p>A few moments later they lined up at the water’s edge, Aden and G’raha’s wraps divested for the somewhat less cumbersome but <em>certainly</em> immodest attire beneath, waiting for Krile’s count. As soon as she shouted, “<em>Go!</em>” they raced forward, Alisaie immediately leaping ahead. G’raha managed to beat her to the water by a nose, but as soon as they all hit the water Aden surged ahead, Thancred close behind. The water grew deeper and darker further from shore, the glittering teal giving way to a rich blue, and he remembered blue light cast on an unfamiliar ceiling, salty mist and blue light. Even after all this time and in a different body he ached at the memory, but he grit his teeth and pushed through as he had then. The depths were a source of both fear and <em>resolve</em>, even as that terrible sense of betrayal and violation flashed unbidden through his mind. He was elsewhere, for a moment, in two places and times at once--this both was and was not a friendly race. He called to mind the handful of times he’d been close to Aden in combat as the Exarch, the feeling of his aether resonating through crystal during a jump, and the even fewer times he’d experienced it first-hand held close in Aden’s arms. There was a gathering of momentum, he knew, converting it into aetheric force, and as he approached the rock he pushed harder, pulling ahead very briefly, rolling over in his chest the <em>feeling</em> of increasing speed. Everyone else touched the rock first, slapping a hand on it and turning or kicking off. G’raha bunched himself up and touched down with his feet--there was a critical moment, he knew, in the shifting of direction--and there it was, the <em>feeling</em> of wheeling about, a heartbeat of weightlessness. All that gathered momentum he pushed off against the rock, <em>flung</em> himself towards shore in the water. He surged forward by a full length, and continued pushing until he reached shore.</p><p>G’raha stumbled up onto the beach winded and dizzy, panting, and planted himself in the sand, turning to watch the others. Alisaie worked her way up shortly after, barely winded and grinning madly. “I’ll concede that was well done.”</p><p>He didn’t quite have his breath, and just raised a hand at her. “Are you alright?” Alphinaud chimed in, and he nodded, gesturing with a circular motion. Alphinaud frowned at him, but let him be. “I think I’ll stick close for a moment, just to be sure.”</p><p>Aden drew up onto shore at almost the same time as Thancred, and while the later bent over to catch his breath Aden just strode up to G’raha, laughing softly, tail lashing behind him. “That was clever,” he said, practically <em>beaming</em> with pride. “Risky, but clever. You’re probably going to be feeling it in a couple bells.”</p><p>“I’m feeling it now,” he gasped out, but grinned up at Aden all the same, pleased he’d noticed the little trick.</p><p>“What?” Alisaie asked, glancing between them, then settling on peering at G’raha.</p><p>“He jumped,” Aden said. “Or as close to it as you can get without training. Probably figured it out from watching me do it so many times.”</p><p>“I could tell what you were doing, before,” he managed, and raised his right arm, spread his fingers. “In the crystal. I’ve got a vague idea of how it works.”</p><p>“Well don’t do it again unless you want to practice it some, if you get the timing wrong you can flatten yourself. Or worse, if--”</p><p>“You <em>what</em>?” Alisaie set her fists on her hips, arms akimbo. “I could’ve used my own skills, but I didn’t--that’s <em>cheating</em>.”</p><p>“You didn’t say anything about it beforehand.” Thancred straightened up, laughing as he spoke. “How can it be cheating if we didn’t make a rule? He just outsmarted us. Which he seems to be quite good at.”</p><p>“Indeed.” G’raha craned his neck to see Y’shtola approaching from behind, her black swimwear leaving <em>very little</em> to the imagination, with a pair of silver sandals that laced almost to her knees in graceful arcs. He found himself slightly <em>jealous</em>; he’d never had a taste for the ostentatious, but he’d grown fond of that style in his time as the Exarch. Urianger trailed close behind, dressed much more modestly in long shorts and a loose, unbuttoned top. “I <em>saw</em> that from across the beach,” she said, leaning forward and gesturing at him with one hand, palm up. “‘Twas cleverly done, but very inefficient.” Urianger cleared his throat next to her, and Y’shtola made a soft sound somewhere high in her throat. “Regardless. We overheard from some of the other fairegoers that you were tasked with controlling a bombard through some traditional lalafellin dance?” She inclined her head towards them, one elegant eyebrow raised as if in disbelief.</p><p>“That’s right,” Aden answered, after just a moment of hesitation, looking between the two of them as if waiting for a punchline.</p><p>“Wouldst thou do us the honor of demonstrating this dance?” Urianger raised a hand, pointing upwards in a painfully familiar gesture. “We were curious should there be aught to be gleaned about the aetheric mechanisms of control.”</p><p>Aden sighed softly, but he gave no other outward reaction, merely looked down at G’raha. “You up for it?”</p><p>“Soon as I catch my breath.”</p><p>Aden went to retrieve their wraps, and while he was gone Alisaie grumbled a little more about his win. “We’ll have to have a rematch,” she insisted. “With better laid out rules.”</p><p>G’raha grinned up at her confidently. “Any time.”</p><p>Alisaie met his gaze, eyes blazing, but a hungry smile curled her lips. She opened her mouth to reply, but Krile cut her off. “I know that look--not right now! Goodness, you haven’t been home a full sennight and you’re already all back at your old tricks.”</p><p>G’raha craned his head to the side to look at Krile, still grinning. “But would you have it any other way?” She kicked a little sand at him in reply, and he yelped in surprise, laughing. By the time Aden returned, already wearing his wrap again and the hat with the woven flowers, Alisaie had joined in and they’d half-buried him in sand. Aden looked from the three of them, all laughing and struggling with each other, to the others, ears perked in curious confusion. Out of the corner of his eye G’raha caught Thancred’s shrug of reply</p><p>“I should be happy of Alisaie’s distraction,” he heard Alphinaud mutter. “That she is focused on someone <em>other</em> than me for--”</p><p>“Is that <em>so?</em>” Alisaie rose from her crouch scooping up sand, and broke into a run, tackling Alphinaud towards the water. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your swimming lesson!”</p><p>“My <em>what</em>?” Alphinaud squawked.</p><p>“I signed you up for a swimming lesson! It should be soon, anyroad, come on!”</p><p>“You <em>signed me up</em> for--without <em>asking</em>--I--” Alisaie succeeded in dragging him off down the beach despite his protests.</p><p>“Nice to see everything’s back to normal,” Aden muttered, and a laugh bubbled up out of G’raha, bright and warm. “I think you were right, Tataru.” When Aden offered him an arm G’raha took it, and let Aden pull him up out of the pile of sand.</p><p>“Of course I was right! Everyone’s getting a little color back and enjoying themselves--speaking of maybe it’s time to go get everyone another round of drinks…”</p><p>He waded back into the water to get rid of some of the sticking sand, and then let Aden tie the wrap back on for him, reveling for a moment in being in the circle of his arms. He leaned in a little, resting his cheek against Aden’s, flicked one ear to brush his and shifted his head ever so slightly to feel the rub of Aden’s short, well-kept line of beard against his skin. That earned a soft, short huff of a laugh, the faintest rumble of a purr beneath it, felt as much as heard this close. “Enjoying yourself?”</p><p>“Very much so,” G’raha answered, the murmur of a purr under his own voice. As he finished Aden pulled back just enough to look at him, but still under the shade of the brim of the ridiculous hat. A soft smile curled his lips while his hands trailed up to G’raha’s arms, holding him gently. Everything about the look was subtle--the little crinkle to the edge of his eyes, the sparkle in them, the slight draw of the scar on his cheek--but it was a smile with everything, his face, his posture, and even in the shade it felt like basking in the warmth of the sun. Aden leaned down and kissed him, gently, their lips parting for one another but neither seeking more. There was no less passion in it than earlier, but a slower, deeper sort--<em>my heart is full of you</em>, it seemed to say, and when they drew apart G’raha answered with a slow blink. <em>I could want for nothing more.</em></p><p>Y’shtola cleared her throat, and they looked up from each other to see her standing with Thancred and Urianger, the latter pointedly looking away but smiling. “Much as we enjoy one another’s company, things are starting to get a bit <em>awkward</em>, Sunshine.”</p><p>G’raha burst out laughing as Aden’s ears flicked and his lip curled--it wasn’t so different from the expression he’d commented on Lyna making. <em>“Sunshine?</em>” he repeated. “Really?”</p><p>“It suits your new disposition.” Thancred crossed his arms, grinning wolfishly. “Seems fitting.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Y’shtola said, tail curling mischievously behind her. “I am not easily moved to frivolous poetics, but… Thancred is right.”</p><p>Urianger finally looked at them, nodding. “‘Tis as if a storm has broken, the clouds parted, and we behold the sun for the first time.”</p><p>Aden’s hands tightened slightly on G’raha’s arms, and he looked down at him, still laughing helplessly. “Well….” His snarl bloomed back into a soft smile. “I can’t say I’m particularly inclined to object anymore.”</p><p>They showed the others the dance <em>together</em>, Aden finding the rhythm he lacked outside of combat in the sway of G’raha’s hips, and by the time the sun began to dip behind the horizon <em>all</em> the Scions were there dancing together.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Night fell, and with it the sweet ocean breeze shifted, turning the air deliciously chill. Someone shouted to announce the fireworks show, and they all retreated to their blankets. By this point G’raha was feeling his earlier stunt in sharp cramps through his calves and thighs, and he hissed as Aden eased him down. “Still can’t believe you did that,” Aden muttered, taking G’raha into the circle of his arms and letting him lean against him.</p><p>G’raha flicked his cheek with one ear, nestling in against him. “I suppose this is what you meant by feeling it later?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ve got something for it, back at the Rising Stones. Hot bath’ll help, too.” The first set of fireworks went off, brilliant blooms of light against the lovely sky. G’raha glanced away to find Alphinaud and Alisaie sitting on a blanket, Alisaie on her stomach with her heels kicked up, both of them watching intently. Tataru approached them as he watched, taking her place on the blanket. A little further on he saw Urianger and Thancred, Y’shtola to their side and listening intently as they described the show for her. Krile had headed back early, citing the day had been a bit bright for her complexion. There were other Scions scattered around the beach, those who’d happened to be in when Tataru announced the trip.</p><p>One of Aden’s hands trailed down, fingers slipping under the slit in the wrap and gently massaging some of the cramp out of his thigh. “You <em>did</em> win, though.” G’raha heard the grin in his voice, lips brushing against his temple as another shower of light glittered in the distance. “What’s your reward?”</p><p>“I already have it,” he murmured, a contented purr rumbling through his chest. “Right here.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>In the morning G’raha woke aching in every muscle in his legs, but so much less so than he expected. A great yawn popped his jaw, and he carefully wobbled out of bed. He made himself presentable enough before stumbling out into the common room, and dropped into a seat between Thancred and Aden. The latter was drinking from a mug of what smelled like especially bitter coffee, and G’raha wrinkled his nose at it a little, even as Aden reached over with his free hand to settle it on G’raha’s leg.</p><p>“It seems your reporter friend was <em>very</em> busy last night,” Thancred said, and tossed a slender newspaper down in front of G’raha. There in black and white was a print of Aden and himself, from a rather unflattering angle, in the moment G’raha had grabbed him for a kiss. <em>WARRIOR OF LIGHT ATTENDS MOONFIRE FAIRE WITH MYSTERY PARAMOUR Who Is This Strange Young Man?</em> A little further down the article there was another, smaller image of a sobbing seeker woman. <em>I HAD THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT’S BABY AND HE’S MARRIED ANOTHER! SECRET SHAM WEDDING TO EVADE FATHERHOOD?</em></p><p>G’raha made a soft, disgruntled sound. “You weren’t joking,” he deadpanned.</p><p>Aden’s hand squeezed his thigh gently as he put down his coffee. “No, I was not. Fortunately, Tataru and Thancred called in a few favors, and I happen to know someone with a little influence myself. Show him the other one.”</p><p>Thancred produced a much thicker newspaper, this one with both a much higher print and paper quality. <em>The Raven</em> it read on top, and the headline was a perfectly normal story about Gridanian involvement in the Alliance--but beneath that there was a lovely black-and-white image of them standing on the beach in the moment just after Aden had tied his wrap on, G’raha’s ears relaxed low to evade the brim of the hat. The image was taken from a low angle, somewhere <em>very</em> close by, and it happened to catch the ring on Aden’s hand. It was in every way a <em>gorgeous</em> image of them, closer to a full crystallograph in quality, and captured the love on their faces in candid perfection. YOUNG LOVE--<em>Warrior of Light Steps Out at Moonfire Faire as Newlywed</em>.</p><p>“Who took this one?” G’raha asked, blinking rapidly and ears perking as he woke up a bit more. Perhaps it was the beautiful image, or perhaps the contact high from Aden’s coffee.</p><p>Krile cleared her throat behind him, and G’raha twisted in his seat to see her holding up a tomestone with the same image displayed on the screen. She was indeed shellfish red underneath her cloak, face covered in freckles, but grinning brightly. “The <em>real</em> reason I left early,” she said. “Tataru and I determined it would be least suspicious, and Aden’s friend was more than kind enough to meet me on short notice. Thancred actually wrote the article.”</p><p>“I suspect some of us will be getting angry or concerned linkpearl calls today,” Aden said, picking up his mug again, “but this is a start.”</p><p>G’raha looked back down at the paper, grinning like a fool at the image and the headline. A start, indeed.</p>
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